


Turn of the Wheel

by elusivelover_archivist



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Revelations, Romance, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-26 16:29:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17145185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elusivelover_archivist/pseuds/elusivelover_archivist
Summary: By Cory ParsonsStranded with Luke on a desolate planet, Han can't hope to escape unwanted dreams.





	Turn of the Wheel

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Cara Loup, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Elusive Lover](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Elusive_Lover_\(Star_Wars_archive\)) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Elusive Lover’s collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/ElusiveLover).

Hands on his hips, Han Solo stared at the sorry sight of the gutted passenger shuttle. The drive’s burnt-out secondary systems called for extensive repairs and a variety of spare parts neither of which were at his disposal. But the craft’s pitiful state wasn’t the reason why irritation simmered in Han’s gut, why his nerves tingled with what felt like static electricity accumulated over days. Absently, his eyes roamed across the bleak landscape beyond the shuttle — wastes of dead soil and black pebbles stretching before him, the desolation of jagged hills rising in his back — all of which made him feel even bleaker. Crusts of black lava covered the hills’ flanks, the remains of volcanic eruptions that had ravaged these lands decades ago.

Chewing on his lower lip, Han recalled his parting words to Chewbacca: _Don’t worry, mate, it’s gonna be more like a pleasure trip. Three days, and we’ll be right back_. But the wild magnetic storms in the planet’s atmosphere had changed his estimate fast. When the shuttle’s instruments went wild, Han’s best guess was to set the craft down in the uninhabited regions of the northern hemisphere, although planetfall turned into a crash more than a proper landing. And they were stranded.

Stranded in a hostile nowhere land, forced to spend twenty-four hours a day very much alone with each other. Luke and he.

Han picked up his tool-kit and re-entered the shuttle’s cockpit. The co-pilot’s seat, torn from its mount during the crash, blocked his way and most consoles were dead. Only the automatic beacon programmed to alert local patrols flashed a steady signal. There was nothing he could do but wait for a response to the distress call. Gazing at the hypnotic indicator lights, Han felt trapped and helpless, and he slammed his palm against the console in a renewed and completely inadequate swell of frustration. Indeed, he figured that the odds of being located before their emergency rations ran out weren’t too bad. Compared to the no-win scenarios Han had already been through, both in his contraband days and as a Rebel leader, the present calamity was annoying rather than disheartening. No reason to be upset.

His head shot up at a noise from outside. Through the shattered canopy bubble, Han could see Luke return with a water container he’d refilled at one of the many hot springs among the mountains’ ravines, emerging from the saturnine environment like a mirage in the cheerless deserts of Tatooine. Luke Skywalker, who from a distance still looked very much the slender youth he’d been when they met, Jedi knight and Han’s closest friend. His heart performed an unnecessary leap and battered in a slightly accelerated rhythm. Han grimaced at himself and shut his eyes briefly before he forced himself to face the real trouble.

_Luke..._

Wistfully, Han recalled the times when they’d shared every thought, every excitement and doubt, comfortable in each other’s company. Until his mind and heart had suddenly taken a wrong turn somewhere, slipping and sliding into confusion at a disturbingly rapid pace. It didn’t make any sense. But then, falling in love never did.

Han wrenched his gaze away and cursed the day he’d let it happen. Ambling through the forest during a brief visit to Endor, he’d come upon a glade where Luke was practicing with his lightsaber — not that he had any need of it. He used those routines as a form of meditation, Luke said, a way to clear his mind. Bare-chested, clad only in dark, tight-fitting pants, he whirled the shimmering Jedi weapon, let it leap through the air. It looked incredibly easy, artistic rather than martial. The blade of light created dazzling patterns in the warm air, an extension of the hand that wielded it. But that wasn’t what kept Han spellbound in the shadows of the giant trees.

His eyes were riveted on the tanned skin and the muscles rippling under it, on the body dissolving into motion, abruptly still again the next moment, an instrument operating with the same elegance and precision as the lightsaber did. Han admired the perfection of Luke’s control — until he saw something flash in his eyes, heard him make a sound of released tension and triumph. The blond head fell back, and the lightsaber spun high in the air. Luke caught it with outstretched hands. Fractionally, Han thought the burning blade would cut through his fingers, but it disappeared, and Luke dropped to his knees holding the polished handle against his chest.

The trained body trembled slightly with the exertion. The blond hair fell into blue eyes that could reflect the intensity of hot summer skies, or darken, unreadable and wild. When Luke rose, his moves were smooth, economic. There was nothing about him that Han hadn’t noticed before. Why then would he hold his breath? Why the sudden sense of alarm? Something about this man and the innocence of his self-delight struck Han to the very core of his self.

He’d turned away brusquely, determined to stop thinking about it, and hadn’t realized he was in trouble until later that day, during a banquet full of weighty speeches and diplomatic civilities. As the evening dragged away, Han found himself watching Luke who was quiet and attentive as he moved among the crowd and talked to various guests. Han didn’t listen. He watched, amazed how Luke drew his gaze like a magnet, how the slight frame in black had become synonymous with strength and grace for him. Uneasily, he realized how much he wanted to get away from the crowd and be alone with Luke.

As if in answer to his convoluted thoughts, Luke looked up at him, across the gathering, with something close to quiet desperation. And Han felt like he’d stepped on a live wire that sent a white spear of electricity through him. He pasted a grin onto his face and prayed that Luke wouldn’t notice his confusion. And from there, things had only gotten worse.

He’d fought the feeling a long time, though sure enough he was fighting a losing battle. He’d planned to never let this happen again — not after his romance with Leia had fallen apart almost as quickly as it had started — but, like so many times before, his plans just wouldn’t work out.

Outside, Luke set the water containers down. Han grabbed a tool and kicked a dented cover plate aside to squat before the inoperative nav console. Only a few instants later, Luke entered the shuttle.

“Any news?”

“No,” Han answered shortly, not turning.

“Don’t worry,” Luke said in a reassuring tone. “Somebody’s bound to pick up our signal anytime now. We’ll be out of here in a few days.” When Han made no reply, he added, “What are you working on?”

“I thought that’s obvious!” Han grumbled. “I’m tryin’ to fix this damn thing.” The slender tip of his diagnoser got jammed in the console’s hopelessly warped innards, and he swore below his breath.

“Come on now,” Luke said reasonably, “you’ve been working on repairs for two days without so much as a five minute break. Don’t you think it’s time to accept the facts?”

Han threw him an angry glare over his shoulder. “Look, junior, I was fixing starships when you could barely read the manuals, so don’t tell me what to do!”

“Well, excuse me for questioning your authority.” The sarcastic tone told Han he’d overdone it this time, and he could almost feel Luke’s searching gaze on him. So much for keeping up a semblance of normality.

As soon as Luke had turned and left the shuttle, Han yanked the diagnoser free and switched it off. There really wasn’t any point in trying to repair the hopelessly damaged console, and daylight was waning already. Han wiped his hands on a piece of cloth, ran them through his hair angrily and rose.

 

The air had cooled notably when he jumped down from the open hatch. While the days were moderately warm, the long northern nights came with a fast drop of temperatures and brought chilly, dry breezes from the east. Hesitantly, Han approached their makeshift camp, a jumble of blankets, food containers and other emergency gear scattered around the fireplace. The shuttle’s bunks were buried in debris from the broken bulkhead, forcing them to spend the nights outside, although with chunks of congealed lava littering the mountainside, at least they had fuel by the plenty.

Luke sat tending the bonfire with an absent expression. Sorting through the various boxes, Han helped himself to his own dinner and stared into the twilight settling around them. They consumed their sparse rations of concentrates in silence.

Unreasonably, Han felt defeated. As if he’d struggled all the time to make things snap back into their normal pace and pattern, and had failed pathetically and utterly. His wandering gaze found no rest anywhere in the deeper dusk. Distances swam in the shadows, and the hills’ ridge melted into the sky. He glanced back at Luke, a silhouette outlined sharply against the fire. But that Luke wasn’t looking at him didn’t mean he wasn’t watching, in his own way, or waiting for some reaction. Han set his empty plate down, and, deciding the uncomfortable silence had lasted too long already, cleared his throat.

“Luke — ah, I’m sorry for snapping at you the way I did, okay?”

Intense blue eyes fixed him, and Han looked down at his plate on the pebbly ground to avoid the discomfort of being studied like that.

“What’s wrong, Han? You can talk to me,” Luke finally said in quiet tones.

“About what?”

For a few moments, Luke seemed to consider, then shrugged and leaned forward, arms folded over his knees. “You’ve been acting strange for weeks,” he said bluntly. “You avoid me. Would you mind telling me what I’ve done to deserve that?”

“You’ve done nothing.” The words slipped before Han could give them a second thought and reflect on their double meaning, his tone sharper than he’d intended it.

Head slightly tilted, Luke continued to watch him. “Are you saying it’s got nothing to do with me? And if it hasn’t, why won’t you talk about it?”

“Aww, come on — you know what it’s like,” Han started, forcing himself to meet the quizzical gaze, playing for time. He looked at Luke and discovered how intensely he disliked the notion of telling him outright lies. “Takes a while sometimes, to figure things out. To get to the bottom of the problem.”

“What _is_ the problem, Han?”

He should have realized that Luke’s apprehension wouldn’t be allayed by vague answers and excuses. Han sat up straight and reached for a tin cup filled with water from the spring, gulped down some of it. “Look, I’ve been through all sorts of changes lately, and it’s not just _your_ life that got turned around and flipped over a few times. Maybe I just need some time to myself.”

The water had left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth, and Han wished for a good draft of chilled ale.

Although Luke’s reaction was barely perceptible — a slight stiffening, a cooler expression entering his eyes — Han could sense his withdrawal acutely.

“We all need some time alone now and then,” Luke agreed in a neutral tone. “Why can’t you just say so?”

“I’m saying so now, alright?” A bleak feeling grew amidst Han’s irritation, but he ignored it, along with his impulse to take back everything he’d said.

“Alright.” Luke rose and began to arrange his blankets for the night, his expression no longer visible as he turned away from the fire’s unsteady glow.

Blankets rustled, and clumps of lava burst with low, dry plops in the fire, the only sounds to disrupt the silence. When Han finally looked up, he found Luke’s eyes fixing him firmly.

“Maybe I got something wrong about us — to think all those changes wouldn’t affect us, too. You’re part of my life, Han, and I thought it all meant the same to you.”

The edge of tightly controlled hurt in Luke’s tone was suddenly more than Han could deal with. “Hell, don’t take it like that!” he said testily. “Just because I’m in no mood for talking! Gimme a break here.”

“Sure. No problem.” With that, Luke retired to his makeshift bed, but it took Han a long time to get rid of the image lingering in his mind. The hard set of Luke’s jaw and mouth, the flicker of pride and disappointment in his eyes. And it took him considerably longer to stop his thoughts from stumbling around in weary circles and surrender to sleep.

{ } { } { }

Han woke in the middle of the night, the sky very black above him, the embers of the campfire glowing ruddily. His breath was coming hard, and he’d kicked off the blanket. A cold sickness lingered in his stomach. For a few seconds, he didn’t know where he was, the disorientation creating another surge of adrenaline, but then he felt Luke’s hand on his shoulder.

“Han? Hey, what is it?”

Disquieted, he wondered if he’d talked or cried out in his sleep. “Must’ve been some weird dream,” he said and turned his head to look at Luke.

“Recall anything?”

Han shook his head. Sometimes he’d dream about the carbon freeze and the horror of being trapped on the edge of death, sometimes he was out in space fighting Imperials with the Falcon slowly coming to pieces around him — unknown fears he’d never felt during moments of acute danger, escaping from some deep corner of his mind. But he could not recall any details this time. All the nightmare had left behind was a blur of giddy panic, and cold sweat on his skin.

When he looked at Luke, his shaded gaze told him Luke knew exactly what it was like: to have all the terrors you believed you’d put behind yourself come back with a vengeance. To be plunged into the black pits inside your own memory over and over.

Luke’s hand moved gently on his shoulder, and concern colored his voice when he repeated Han’s name. Uncomfortably, Han realized he’d been staring. The weak feeling was still inside him.

“Damn dreams,” he muttered, pulling the blanket back up. “And whoever invented them.” To distract himself, Han searched the clear skies and the rich spray of stars, some of which burned very brightly. He calmed, studying them.

Luke eased down by his side, head resting on the blanket roll Han used as a pillow, and they lay like that, next to each other, gazing up at the sky together.

“Looks pretty much like a wheel — did you notice?” Han said after some time, and pointed out the alien pattern of stars. “Those eight... nine stars over there.”

“I think that’s what people here call it,” Luke told him. “The Wheel. Quite important in their mythology.”

“Yeah, there’s something similar on Corellia,” Han supplied. “The wheel of life that’s always turning. Pulls you up until eventually you go under. Something you can’t escape.”

“But that’s not what you believe, is it?”

“You bet I don’t. There’s no such thing as destiny. Maybe you go under in the end, but if you do, you only got yourself to blame. It’s all one big game, and you get your chances. Either you use ‘em or you blow them.”

“Smuggler philosophy.”

“Maybe.” Han chuckled. He hadn’t felt that much at ease in Luke’s company for weeks, and he enjoyed the feeling.

“There’s a different meaning to this Wheel,” Luke continued to explain. “It’s about making a journey, going through changes until finally you return to your own beginnings. The things that matter most. The oldest dreams you’ve forgotten about.”

“Oh yeah? How d’you know all that?”

“I did a little research on the local culture. Just one of the things that stuck to my mind.”

“I like that. And there might be something in it,” Han said slowly, thoughts forming as he spoke. “At least it sounds kinda hopeful. Like, you get to the point eventually, if you just continue on your path.”

“The point where you see the deeper meaning of it all? I think so. Maybe all the changes in life can be blinding, but somewhere there’s a pattern, even if it takes long to find it.”

“It sure takes bloody long sometimes,” Han agreed.

Luke turned his head towards him, and Han could feel his breath stir his hair. “Han? Are you okay now?” There was something about his tone that cut through Han’s defenses all too easily. The warmth of Luke’s voice, the gentle concern—

“Sure I’m okay,” he started, and inhaled deeply, uncertain of how to say it. “Look — I know I’ve been a bit edgy lately. Didn’t mean to take that out on you.”

“No harm done.” After a pause, Luke added, “I only wish you’d tell me — that you’d trust me, like you used to.”

His hand lifted and came to rest on Han’s upper arm. Han’s jaw set. He wanted to look at Luke, so incredibly close, his mouth just a breath away from his own, wanted to read in those expressive blue eyes. But he couldn’t trust his own control to hold.

Forcibly, Han closed his eyes. “Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s nothing you’ve done. Just — me. Nothing’s changed.”

“Sure?” Luke’s tone was very gentle, and Han came dangerously close to blurting out the truth and be done with it. Or grab Luke, and —

“Uh-huh. Just gimme a little time,” he said as casually as he could.

“If that’s what it takes...” Luke sat up and moved back to his own makeshift bed. “Sleep well.”

“You too,” Han retorted, trying very hard to ignore the disappointment that suddenly assailed him.

{ } { } { }

Instead of resuming his pathetically unsuccessful repairs, Han took a long walk up into the mountains the next day. Walking to clear his mind, he found himself on the edge of a still, circular lake after an hour or two. The water that filled a volcano crater looked almost black, like a pool of night amidst the jumble of grey rocks and lava crusts.

The morning was warm and bright, and after a moment’s hesitation, Han stripped to swim in the lake. Floating lazily for a long time, he thought about the wheel in the sky, the incredible changes, and the silence between Luke and himself that had become almost a physical burden lately. About beginnings and endings turning out to be the same.

He thought of the Death Star and the steel shadow of an X-wing racing through the trench, the chilling loneliness of that absurd attack. And the moment he’d realized he couldn’t let Luke go through with it alone, irrevocable change had set in, however hard he’d tried to deny it.

Han pulled himself out of the water and lay down to dry in the sun. _Couldn’t leave him alone then, and can’t leave him alone now. Although now I should_.

And then he would be back at the beginning: a privateer with a Wookiee co-pilot and a ship for hire. Alone.

 

When Han returned to the shuttle and the camp, the afternoon sun slanted elongated shadows across the ground.

“Where’ve you been?” Luke asked. Like Han, he’d taken off his shirt to sprawl in the sun.

“Went for a swim.” Han gestured at the craggy hills in his back. The sun and the water, the time spent dozing by the lake, had left a most welcome, relaxed feeling behind.

“How about a little work-out?” Luke suggested.

“If that includes levitating rocks, count me out.”

“Something simple then. Like — wrestling. That what you’d prefer?”

Han grinned at him. “Sure you’re up to that? Or are you planning to use the Force on me?”

“I won’t have to,” Luke said generously, mouth twitching in amusement.

And he was right.

Compensating for Han’s greater weight and experience with agility, Luke managed to throw him two times, and when Han got back to his feet, smiled almost apologetically.

“Had enough?” He combed his fingers through the tangled blond hair, very pale in the wash of light.

“Dream on, kid,” Han said, flustered, rubbing his wrist and hoping to hide his untoward sentiments in the gesture. Because instead of concentrating on scoring points, he wanted to stare at Luke and get lost in the sight of him.

Sometimes Luke seemed so intangible, so distant, not entirely real... Maybe that was why the sheen of perspiration on his face and throat startled Han; the fluttering, tensing muscles under smooth skin, the sharp contours of shoulders and elbows: everything overwhelmingly physical — like the ill-fated day he’d watched Luke go through his lightsaber routine — and again, Han felt like entering forbidden territory when he looked at him that way.

“Next round,” he announced and lunged for the slighter man who’d turned sideways.

Luke twisted around even as he fell while Han landed on top of him, caught hold of his wrists and wrestled him down. The body under him tensed in preparation to throw him. Han tightened his grip and grinned into his friend’s heated face.

“S’pose we’re even now,” he drawled.

Luke wriggled, managed to yank one hand free and almost unbalanced Han when he rolled.

They wrestled on the ground, hot and excited like teenagers, each struggling to get on top. Diffusely, Han recalled enjoying friendly fights like this one with his boyhood companions. Only then he hadn’t understood the flush of heat generated by the close physical contact. Now he did. He threw himself across Luke, used his weight to hold him down, pinioned Luke’s hands on either side of his head. Ragged breath brushed Han’s face and gave him a small shiver that crawled up the nape of his neck. It was good beyond words to feel Luke stretched out against him.

The heat inside him became insistent and wiped out every thought as Han felt himself go hard. Losing the fight that had turned those past weeks into a sequence of agonizing trials, he surrendered to the heat of the moment and shoved his burgeoning erection against Luke.

“You win,” Luke said quietly. “Let me up.”

“Not a chance,” Han breathed against his mouth, just before his lips took Luke’s while reality vanished for a short, incredible moment of blissful abandon.

The next instant, a cold, sinking feeling made him break away. Han pushed to his feet and turned from his friend who sat up slowly, mute with disbelief at what had happened.

Han cursed himself. How many times had he sneered at Chewbacca for thinking with his stomach—? Only in his case, there was definitely a different part of the body involved.

 _To hell with him, me, the whole bloody trip_.

Han scooped up his discarded shirt and pulled it on with a baleful glance at the useless shuttle. He longed for the Falcon, to blast out of here.

At his back, Luke got to his feet, pebbles trickling as he, too, retrieved his tunic.

“Let’s talk.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Han shot back irritably, refusing to turn. “I got carried away, and I’m sorry. Okay?”

“You could’ve told me.”

Luke’s tone was amazingly sober and carried not a trace of the cool reserve of the night before.

_Told you? Come on —_

He’d never considered that an option, yet for the first time, Han wondered why.

“I... thought you weren’t interested.” He slanted Luke a glance over his shoulder, in time to see his mouth curl, and after a second realized his friend was trying to suppress a grin. Annoyed, Han added, “You’re a Jedi.”

“So? You think the Jedi live on spiritual things alone?”

Frowning, Han turned to face Luke and was tempted to say yes. He thought of Ben Kenobi, who’d radiated the sexless contentment of the religious, but of Luke that certainly wasn’t true. The way he moved, even the cool restraint told its own story about a vivid sensuality underneath. Instead of answering him, Han met the quizzical gaze with a helpless shrug.

“They don’t,” Luke told him. “The Force is not... some abstract idea, Han. It’s in all things alive. It shapes the material world much as it does the spiritual.”

Luke’s unruffled composure began to take the sting out of Han’s embarrassment and discomfort.

“So maybe I got something wrong,” he said, trying to sound flippant.

“Is that the reason you didn’t just tell me?” Luke probed.

Strangely, the way he said it made Han feel the deeper disquiet under his own reasoning. “Well, I... kinda thought you’d resent the notion,” he admitted hesitantly.

“Do you?”

The question startled Han. “’Course not,” he said automatically, then thought better of his denial. He shrugged again. “Perhaps you’ve got a point there... Perhaps it bothers me. Like — it doesn’t feel right.” He’d piled up a heap of reasons why it was inconceivable to try, but none of them felt right anymore. And when Luke, expectably, asked him “why?” all the answers he might have given simply dissipated.

“I’m not sure,” Han said honestly.

Luke let himself down onto a folded blanket and began stirring the ashes of last night’s fire with a long shard from one of the shuttle’s broken panels, his face averted. After a pause, he said, “Can I ask you something? Have you ever — been with another man?”

Evidently, Han wasn’t the only one beginning to feel nervous about this conversation, and the thought reassured him a little.

“Had sex, you mean?” He sat down slowly, a step away from Luke. “I guess you could call it that. Back at the academy — why, you know what it’s like when a bunch of guys get locked up together, with no females anywhere near in sight.”

Luke gave a small shrug. “Spending all that time in the pilots’ dorms, I couldn’t help noticing. But I never got involved.”

“No big deal,” Han said. “Kind of a mixture of showing off and helping each other out, know what I mean? It’s a friendly thing, once you’re past feeling awkward about it.”

“You did?”

“Sure.” Han grinned to cover the embarrassment of admitting as much. “Corellian culture’s pretty traditional in that area. You’re not supposed to take an interest in your own sex, and the way boys learn about touching each other is getting involved in fights. Until you find yourself in an emergency situation, like the academy.”

Eyes still fixed on the fireplace, Luke asked, “Is it — does it feel like touching yourself?”

It seemed like an incredibly intimate question to ask, although Han had never considered those experiences particularly intimate. “Well, ah... at least you’re familiar with the mechanics, and that makes it easy enough,” he muttered, then looked up to study Luke’s expression. “That the reason you never gave it a try? ‘Cause it wouldn’t make any difference?”

“That’s one of the things I told myself.” Unexpectedly, Luke smiled wryly. “I was curious, of course, but more than anything, I was shy. Apart from being brought up in the traditional way.” His head lifted, and their eyes met briefly. “I’d wake up sometimes, in the middle of the night, and then I could hear the guys in the next bed. Remember the crowded dorms on Yavin 4? There wasn’t any way you could keep it a secret, and they didn’t really try.”

“Same at the academy.”

“It didn’t seem very private.”

“Doesn’t have to be...” Han pulled up his knees and rested his hands on them.

The sun had dipped behind the ridge of hills, leaving the skies a deeply burning blue.

“You know, sex can be many things,” Han said. “And just because you’re alone with somebody doesn’t mean it’s private. Special. Then again, simple things — just being close to somebody — can get very private. Sometimes.”

“Like last night.” Again, Luke’s gaze strayed in his direction, and Han felt a small tingle when their eyes met. But the waning light rendered Luke’s expression obscure, and the moment passed. “What happened after the academy?” Luke asked, his meaning plain enough.

“I ran into another emergency, now and then,” Han said, uncomfortably.

“And that’s all?”

He drew a slow breath to delay his answer. “More or less... It did make some sort of a difference, like — you know it’s gonna be easy, no unnecessary questions asked, no fuss. Sometimes the company of another guy is just... reassuring.” Very much aware that he’d avoided the real question, Han paused, then forced himself to say it. “I’ve never made love with another man, if that’s what you’re asking.” Did Luke realize what it cost him to admit that? After all his earlier bragging about his wide range of sexual experience, it came hard. And why were they having this conversation anyway? Han had never talked about these things with anyone before, man or woman.

“Because it didn’t feel right?”

“Because I didn’t want to. Never occurred to me.”

“Well, it occurred to me.”

Thunderstruck, Han stared at Luke who looked only marginally embarrassed.

“Those nights in the dorm,” he said with a small, almost apologetic smile, “just made me wonder. And sometimes... sometimes I’d lie there thinking about you.”

“About _me_?” Han echoed, totally incapable of a more intelligent reply.

“Uh-huh. You never noticed, did you? I used to be embarrassed when we’d meet the next day. But then, I was easily embarrassed in those days.”

Still digesting the unexpected revelation, Han swallowed. “I want you to know something,” he started, not sure of what he was going to say. “The way I feel about you, Luke... well, it’s different. Doesn’t compare to any of the things we’ve been talking about.” He shifted, close enough to touch Luke’s arm, half reassurance and half caress. “You’re special.”

A hand lifted, and, tentatively, Luke brushed his fingers across Han’s. ”Same here,” he said lightly, then glanced up at the darkened sky. With its usual abruptness, dusk had fallen, and the air was cooling. “I’d better get the fire going.”

Han sat back, sentiments seesawing between disappointment, surprise and plain confusion. Something very fragile was hanging between them, instinct told him as he watched Luke kindle the fire with quiet efficiency. Hell, he even looked a lot more relaxed than Han felt. Chunks of lava began to glow an ashen red, and eventually small flames licked up. Luke settled down again, closer to him than before, arms wrapped around his knees.

“I didn’t know what to do with those feelings, back then,” he said softly, watching the fire. “Didn’t know where to place them. It just... crept up on me. Wanting you to touch me.”

Searching for the right answer and finding none, Han hesitated. Then he slipped an arm around Luke’s shoulders, almost cautiously. But when Luke leaned into him, his mind filled with a curious contentment.

The minutes that passed in mutual silence were long and calm. Han wasn’t thinking about doing anything. In fact, he wasn’t thinking at all, he just let himself savor the moment — the coolness of night gathering around them, and the fire burning brighter, the feel of Luke’s nearness.

“It seems so incredibly long ago,” Luke said distantly, as if his thoughts had drifted to remote times and places. But the next moment he straightened and turned, and Han came very close to holding his breath at the look in his eyes. Luke leaned over, one hand resting on Han’s knee, and instinctively Han bent towards him.

He did hold his breath then, when Luke touched his lips to his own, and he closed his eyes. For the first time in his life, Han just let himself be kissed in bewildered passivity, keeping still under the gentle caress of a warm mouth brushing his own, moving against his lips. Only when Luke pulled away did he reach up to touch his cheek and shook his head.

“Don’t stop.”

“I’m not... sure,” Luke said. His earlier, impartial calm had melted away to reveal a blend of curiosity and uncertainty. The blue eyes looked up, then drifted past Han. “It was only a thought, back then,” he tried to explain. “Nothing I ever thought would happen. Outside reality.”

“I know.” Han stroked both hands down Luke’s back in a slow, soothing caress, then moved them up to rest on his shoulders. “I’m not sure about much myself. To be honest... I more or less expected you to resent me for — wanting you.”

“ _Resent_ you?” Again, Luke’s expression changed, and his unfocused gaze became sharp with surprise. “Why? How could I, Han?”

Why? That was another difficult question to answer. Han stretched out his legs and wrapped an arm around Luke’s shoulders, subliminally seeking the reassurance of physical closeness. “Well — first of all... I’ve got a certain reputation.”

“Uh-huh.” A brief smile crossed Luke’s features, and, relaxing, he settled back against Han, one hand still resting on his thigh. “There was a lot of talk about you among the other pilots. Some said all Corellians need to have sex once a day due to their biology, but Wedge always refused to comment on that.”

Han snorted. “Bullshit. Maybe Corellians have a pretty relaxed attitude toward sex — at least Corellian spacers have — but that’s about all there is to it. I guess it’s a matter of lifestyle more than anything. Like, I’ve been constantly on the move, ever since I turned eighteen. Makes you go for what’s easily available.”

“I suppose so.” Luke paused, then, with a quick, sidelong glance at Han, added, “I grew up with very romantic notions about sex. Though the guys I used to hang out with on Tatooine didn’t exactly share that view. And I could never quite figure what was right... the things my aunt ‘n uncle told me, or the stuff my friends went for. Which was all about getting laid as often as possible.”

Han grinned a little ruefully. “Yeah, bragging about it is a good way of hiding your own insecurities.”

“That’s what I figured at some stage,” Luke agreed, shifting into a more comfortable position that brought him closer against Han, who was having a hard time ignoring his instinctive responses to the contact — the pressure of Luke’s shoulder, side and hip against him, the touch of his hand, drifting lightly across Han’s thigh as he spoke.

“I’ve always thought of it as something very personal,” Luke said. “I don’t know... maybe because it makes you vulnerable, because you show so much. So you need to trust each other.”

Han felt a strange stirring in his chest — a tightening as he thought about the way he’d used sex for release and to vent his frustration sometimes. Shielding himself in the pride of his easy conquests — because he knew he could get what he wanted anytime — rather than giving anything away. But Luke’s tone and touch began to unravel all that and seemed to beckon to a very different need in him.

“Feels so good being close to you,” Luke said softly.

“Yeah,” Han murmured, and suddenly couldn’t trust his voice anymore. He reached to cup Luke’s jaw, turned his face towards him and lost himself in his eyes, reflecting the deep blue of night. “Luke — I’ve fought this a long time. There’s something about you, about us... I don’t know. I thought I was goin’ to spoil it all. But I can’t seem to help it, y’know.”

Luke’s hand stilled on his thigh with slight pressure as he moved up closer. “There’s nothing wrong with it,” he returned, face coloring a little. “Don’t let it come between us.”

Han closed his eyes and lowered his head fractionally, mouth brushing Luke’s cheek, seeking his lips. His hesitant caress met a very determined response as Luke kissed him back. Hugging him close, Han deepened the kiss that lasted much longer than the first one had. The warmth of Luke’s body pressing into him, the depth of feeling in his kiss stirred tremors all over Han’s body. He went hard instantly, and it almost embarrassed him. Pulling away, he released Luke’s mouth.

“What’s wrong?” Luke breathed.

“Nothing, just...” Han swallowed. “Don’t wanna rush this. We don’t have to do anything — at least not right away,” he added truthfully. Holding Luke and studying his face, so changed with the gentle flush and the brightness in his eyes, lips parted to release uneven breaths, he knew he wanted what he’d never considered before: to make love with another man.

Luke still held him tightly, arms clasped around Han’s waist. “What happened?” he asked. “Was it something I did—?”

“No... well, it’s — nothing you did. Just you. You’re like nobody else I know.” Annoyed at his clumsiness, Han cleared his throat. “It just hit me one day, that’s all.”

“I think I’m beginning to see what you mean,” Luke murmured and leaned over for another brief kiss. “Can we get a bit more comfortable than this?”

Surprised by the wry grin that went with the question, Han looked around, muttered, “Sure.”

They’d sagged against the bundled blankets. Han tugged at one, spread it on the ground close by the fire. “How’s this?”

“Cozy.” Luke’s grin widened as he shook his head. “This is like something from the holonovels. Lonely nights and fire glow...”

“Holonovels, huh?” Han eased down and pulled Luke into a tight embrace. “Now don’t tell me you never enjoyed ‘em.”

“I was hooked on them,” Luke said against his hair. “But don’t tell anybody.”

Han chuckled. “Depends...”

“Depends on what?”

“We’ll see.” Han busied his hands tugging Luke’s tunic out of his pants and slipped them under the soft fabric.

“Depends on how well I cooperate?” Luke guessed, mouth moving down the side of Han’s face, caressing his jaw. “Pointless arguments, blackmail... what’s next, Han?”

“Anything you want,” Han said seriously and slid his hands up the spine that arched slightly to his touch.

Looking up at him, Luke pursed his lips. “I think I wanna take your shirt off,” he said in dry tones, but the fingers unbuttoning Han’s shirt weren’t quite as steady as his voice, and when his palms made a slow journey up Han’s chest, both their breaths quickened.

“You feel wonderful,” Han said huskily, holding Luke against him after they’d finally gotten rid of shirt and tunic. He’d stopped feeling shy about sex a long time ago, about expressing his needs — but with Luke, he suddenly did. Or was it his reluctance to begin anew, to learn about something he’d never considered, to go through all the stages of untangling his own desires one more time?

“You, too.” Luke kissed him, his mouth, his chin, his throat, while his hands wandered across the bare torso.

The hot pressure in Han’s groin reached the next level at those insistent caresses. Wrapping his legs around Luke’s, he coaxed him closer and felt a hardening erection rub against his thigh. The contact sent a blaze of sensations through Han’s nervous system. Maybe his intense response wasn’t so surprising, with all the pent-up need inside him — then again, maybe it was. Luke’s touch, the teasing lips and the stroking hands, set him afire incredibly fast.

Hugging and kissing and not doing much except pressing into each other, they were out of breath within seconds. Luke rocked his hips back and forth with small moans that Han kissed off his lips, drowning in his scent, in the sensations that besieged and stormed him at a quickened pace.

“Luke,” he whispered. “Luke...”

When the blue eyes flickered open, they’d lost much of their usual alertness. Drifting back from infinity, they focused on Han’s face. “What—” Luke swallowed. “Han, I don’t know what to do.”

“Just trust me?” Han murmured, strangely shaken.

“I’ve always trusted you. With my life.”

“Me, too.”

When Luke nodded and urged him closer, Han abandoned himself to the swell of sensations. He buried his heated face against Luke’s shoulder, wrapped both arms around his waist and ground his hips into him, on a straight course to sensory overload. His gasps echoed by Luke’s panting breath, his motions met with equal passion, Han knew he couldn’t last much longer. The groan he let out sounded too desperate to his own ears, and he stopped, confounded, kissed the hands that caressed his face.

“Han — don’t stop now,” Luke breathed, pressing into him urgently.

But it was the tenderness — in his eyes, in the movement of fingertips outlining his lips and chin that devastated Han, and all too soon, he felt his control fall apart. White heat shot through him and froze him. A seething current of pure energy took his breath, ripped him into sudden climax that came in a single wave, taking him by surprise.

Shaken and gasping hard, Han opened his eyes in time to see the ravished expression that spread on Luke’s face, to see the lips form his name soundlessly at the peak of overwhelming pleasure. Then Luke trembled and lay still.

Easing down by his side, Han caressed the fire-bronzed hair with his lips. “Luke?” he whispered, and heard the note of incredulity in his own voice. How could something so simple take him so high, ravage his self-control like that?

A long sigh was his only answer, and he watched the light dance across Luke’s features and thought he could probably stay like this forever. Just looking at the man in his arms.

“You still think there’s something — not right about this?” Luke finally asked, when his harsh breathing had stilled. His hand came up to drift down Han’s cheek, the drowsy gaze following.

Han shook his head mutely. “I—I haven’t felt like this in a long time,” he said in a low voice.

The blue eyes warmed with a smile that dazzled Han, and he knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do to see Luke smile at him that way. “Happy?” Luke asked.

“Very.”

Han looked up at the wheel in the sky that had stopped turning, taking him back to the beginnings, to a place of total, inner quiet. A place he never wanted to leave again.

{ } { } { }

Luke was already half-dressed when Han woke, and morning brightened the wasteland beyond the fireplace. From the shuttle, an insistent whistle punctured the quiet. Disoriented, Han took a few moments to realize what that meant. Then he grabbed his clothes and followed Luke into the shuttle’s cockpit.

“Somebody received our distress call,” Luke said, gesturing at the com console. “They’re coming.”

The console’s display showed the approaching vehicle’s coordinates. Still buttoning up his shirt, Han grimaced at the sight he’d thought he would welcome. In another hour, they’d finally leave the desolate wilderness.

“I’m not so sure I wanna be rescued right now,” he muttered.

Luke turned to study him with those over-perceptive eyes.

“Just because we’re returning to civilization doesn’t mean we gotta pretend nothing happened,” he said, quite casually, but Han caught the flicker of warmth in his gaze that signaled something more than acceptance of what had passed between them. He swallowed dryly.

“I couldn’t possibly forget about it,” he said. “And I’m not very good at pretending — well, outside business.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to forget either,” Han clarified. For some reason, he’d feared that sex would disrupt their friendship, but the memory of last night and the incredible tenderness had only intensified all he felt for Luke.

“Han — are you trying to tell me something?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Han glanced away and back up at the blue eyes watching him calmly, expectantly. “Just don’t know how to, is all.”

“Then let me say something...” Luke took a step closer to him. “You were right — it makes a difference.”

Han pressed his lips together and waited, a bizarre nervousness creeping up inside him.

“Being with another man—” Luke interrupted himself with a shrug. “I suppose I felt... inadequate, and that’s why I wanted to forget all about it, you know. When I first started to think about you that way.”

“Inadequate?” Han blurted. “Didn’t anybody ever take the time to tell you how goddamn gorgeous you are? Hell, Luke—” He held out his arms, and when Luke moved towards him, pulled him up close. “You mean so much to me. And I want to make love with you — sometime, when we’re ready — and I want this to last...”

“Me, too.” Luke’s eyes burned into him as he hugged Han in turn.

“Then I guess I’m ready to be rescued,” Han said, relief showing in his unsteady voice, but he didn’t care. He was ready to return into the hectic current of politics and war. Ready to explore forgotten dreams and discover new ones with every turn of the wheel.

{ } { } { }


End file.
